


brittany and donuts are the only things that warm my cold dead heart

by ObiAbi



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27966116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObiAbi/pseuds/ObiAbi
Summary: It's one am and Santana is sad - and wants donuts. Brittany proves to be a very helpful best friend, even half-asleep.Set after Santana's confession of love in 2.15
Relationships: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	brittany and donuts are the only things that warm my cold dead heart

It was almost midnight when we rolled up to Dunkin’ Donuts. I couldn’t have been more awake, but Brittany was almost asleep in the passenger’s seat, her head lolling against the window and her hand resting on my knee. I couldn’t quite bring myself to make her move after I parked the car. She looked so at peace in her duck-patterned fleece pajamas and christmas slippers, though her bed-head hair was sticking up at odd angles. I rested my cheek against the steering wheel and took a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, just like my abuela used to tell me to do when I was about to cry. Almost forgetting my icy persona, I reached out to touch Brittany’s pale fingers but recoiled when I remembered I was supposed to hate physical contact.

“Britt,” I whispered, nudging her with my knee. “We should go in. I’m hungry.”

She didn’t say anything and instead shifted her weight, leaning her head against my shoulder. Her version of persuasion. I suppressed a small smile and shrugged her off of me.

“Britt, I’m serious. I’m starving.” I moved to open the car door. Brittany let out a small humph.

“We could just stay here,” she suggested, waggling her eyebrows and giving me a small smirk. I’m sure if she had the energy to open her eyes, she would’ve winked. I ignored her proposal, unbuckling her seatbelt, and then my own. I got out of the car and held the door open, waiting for her to move. She didn’t.

“I’m not in the mood,” I lied, my cheeks turning a little pink. “Are you coming or not?”

“I thought you said you were in love with me,” she murmured. I clamped my eyes shut. This was the one thing I hoped she wouldn’t bring up. 

“I don’t remember ever saying that,” I asserted, shutting the door hard. I waited for a few minutes for her to get out of the car, but the winter air was frigid, and I wasn’t wearing much more than a tank top and jeans. I groaned when I remembered my sweat shirt and coat were still in a pile on Sam’s floor. Damn, that coat was expensive. I wasn’t looking forward to telling my mom it was gone for good. No way I could ever bring myself to retrieve it; doing so would involve talking to Sam and I don’t think I could ever bear to see the hurt on his face.

The Dunkin’ Donuts was completely deserted except for a sluggish college kid who looked like he was in serious need of some caffeine. He raised his eyebrows at me when I ordered three chocolate glazed donuts for myself and three of the most brightly colored, sprinkle filled donuts for Brittany.

“What, did your boyfriend dump you or something?” He commented on my apparent eating of six extremely sugary donuts. Yeah, something like that. I gave him a stern glare.

“Mind your own business, creepo.”

By the time I sat down at a booth and inhaled one of my donuts, Brittany wandered in, looking a bit lost. Her hair looked like it had been through a small tornado and the shirt of her pajamas was half tucked into her fuzzy pants. I felt a smile spread across my face. It was just so Brittany, tucking in her pajama shirt.

“Britt,” I called to her, patting the seat. “I bought you some donuts.” She drifted over to the booth and slid into the seat across from me.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “They remind me of unicorns.”

“I agree.” I smiled at her. “They made me think of you.”

Brittany smiled back and began to pick at her donuts, making a rainbow out of the different colored sprinkles. 

“Why’d you need me in the middle of the night? I thought you were sleeping over at Sam’s.” She gave me a questioning look. 

“I was,” I responded, looking down at the cream-colored table. “But I had to leave. He got pissed, I think.”

“What do you mean you think? Wait, did he break up with you?” Damn, she was good. Brittany sat up and moved her slippered foot to touch mine under the table, a silent gesture of comfort. I could tell she was trying to meet my eyes, but I resisted, not willing to give in to her all-knowing gaze.

“Well, he just seemed more… sad, I guess. I think he was angry too, probably. And I guess he kinda did dump me. Yeah.” I didn’t want to say anymore. I wasn’t sure I could without crying. I tried to distract myself by counting the number of yellow ducks spotting her pajama top.

“Did you tell him that thing you told me? That you’re -”

“Shhh,” I hushed her, glancing at the teenage employee. “That kid’s gonna hear you.”

“San, you’ve never seen him before in your whole entire life. I’m pretty absolutely sure he doesn’t care.” She lowered her voice a bit and gave me a pointed glance. “You’re a lesbian.”

Suddenly I felt a bit sick and I regretted eating my donut so fast. That word, lesbian, made me grimace. I didn’t respond for a long moment, mentally listing all the excuses I could think of, the ones that might prove I wasn’t a lesbian. But I knew, somewhere deep beneath my bitchy, guarded exterior, that I was lying to myself. Maybe it was time to be honest about the one thing which warmed my cold, dead heart, no matter how much it hurt to admit. 

I took small bites of my last donut until it was finished. Brittany ate only half of hers before resting her head in her arms on the table. Her eyes drifted shut. She seemed on the verge of sleep, and I felt a little bad I had woken her. But I didn’t know where else to go after leaving Sam’s house. I certainly couldn’t explain to my parents what had happened, and they thought I was having a sleepover with Brittany anyway. And, honestly, I needed her.

“Sam sort of guessed,” I answered finally. I squeezed my hands between my knees and realized they were shaking. “He wanted to have sex with me, and…” I trailed off, trying to collect my thoughts. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “I just felt like a liar, I guess. And I called you because…” More silence. “I wanted to see you.” She smiled slightly.

“I always wanna see you, San.”

My whole body started to tremble. For some reason I can’t explain, my eyes welled up with tears. I tried to whisper you too, but no sound came out.

“Isn’t this a good thing?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head in her arms. “You told me you didn’t want to be with Sam.”

“I don’t,” I responded truthfully. A few tears ran down my cheek and I scrunched my eyes closed, taking a shaky breath. “But I still feel pretty shitty. I don’t know why I can’t just be normal. I just want to be in love with him, but for some reason, I can’t.” She must’ve heard the tears in my voice, because she gestured for me to sit with her on the other side of the booth. I did, but I didn’t make any move to touch her.

“Don’t be sad, please,” she breathed. She reached out her hand and laced her fingers with mine. I jumped a little at her touch, but my hand seemed to wrap around hers of its own accord. She squeezed my palm a little tighter when she realized how bad it was trembling, but I was thankful she didn’t bring it up. “I’d be sad if you were normal. You’re perfect.”

I smiled again, trying to stop my lip from quivering, and rested my head on my forearm, mirroring Brittany. We stayed there unmoving for a few minutes, until her breathing evened out and her hand went slack in mine. I sat up, gently unfolding my shaky hand from her steady one. Brittany’s hair was splayed on the sticky sprinkle-covered table. Despite my better judgement, my hand wandered towards her blonde locks. I gathered it in my hands. It felt good between my fingers. It was soft and smooth and felt like her. I twisted her hair into a loose braid, and slowly pulled the hair tie out of my own high pony. Dark brown locks fell messily around my shoulders. As I secured the slightly atrocious braid together with the black band from my own hair, a memory came back to me from cheerio practice two years ago. Brittany had taught me to braid my own hair; three strands. Over, under, over, under. Those were the good days. But these days - these days were better. These days it seemed I was learning new things from my best friend every day, things that were much more important than a three-strand braid. Somehow I sucked even more at admitting most of those new things to myself than I did at braiding hair. I let out a slight sigh and laid my cheek back on the table, only inches from Brittany. I was certain she was asleep, but her lips moved, making words I could hardly hear.

“I love you too, San.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! I'm very new at this - any words of advice or constructive criticism would be appreciated! But please be gentle :) Hope this brought you some warm fuzzies! I wrote a lot more to this story if anyone's interested *shrug*


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